


EF5

by Doveheart



Series: Necessary Evils [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doveheart/pseuds/Doveheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Past the voices and past the pain, Yda reaches out to Papalymo. Yda wants to remember who she is. </p>
<p>Direct sequel to Astraphobia</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although actually taking place after the incomplete Vesuvius and the yet unwritten Luminous Flux, I needed to write this. You aren't missing anything by these not being finished though.

> Cause I've done some things that I can't speak  
> And I've tried to wash you away, but you just won't leave  
> So won't you take a breath and dive in deep?  
> Cause I came here so you'd come for me  
> I'm begging you to keep on haunting
> 
> -Haunting by Halsey

 

_EF5 damage represents the upper limit of tornado power, and destruction is almost always total._

-

Time in the Ultima Weapon had left Garuda weak. She needed a vessel.

Yda was desperate for some reason to continue on after it was all said and done — after she wiped the blood from Papalymo’s lips and laid his body down. Garuda gave her one after the Garleans had taken everything from her. There was a pause, tense, and Yda didn’t know whether to fight or run. The Primal looked weak, maybe even scared. She wanted Yda’s help and Yda was so blinded by the pain and realization that Papalymo was gone _(—oh twelve, he was gone, actually gone what have you done)_ that she didn’t see the smirk curl at the edges of Garuda’s lips. Yda took her taloned hand.

The wind twisted around them like a tornado and Garuda dug her claws into Yda’s hand when she tried to pull away. The wind whipped around her and sliced her skin. Yda found she couldn’t yell, couldn’t move. Garuda kept a hold on her hand, but Yda’s knees were knocked out from under her in the force of the wind.

Yda falls — Yda kneels.

The wind fades and her head rings with the sound of Garuda’s laugh. Then, nothing. Garuda is gone; the wind is gone. The rubble of the building she had been in had been blown open, leaving her a path out. Yda knows, then, there is no turning back. There is nothing but a primitive need to protect this land — her home. To go to war and to achieve vengeance.

Yda becomes a hunter, then. She seeks out those who are threat to her, to the Shroud, to Eorzea. She is feral, wild and unkempt. Her hands are stained with the blood of the Garleans who choose to stay within the Borders of her home. The rumors of her spread around taverns and cities. She is a harpy, cruel and bloodthirsty. She is Garuda's chosen. Yda forgets who she was, not just because of Garuda but because she _wants_ to forget.

However, no matter how hard she tries, Yda cannot forget Papalymo. Garuda wants her to forget but at night, when the nightmares come, Yda remembers. It is not something Garuda can erase, at least not right away.

They is nightmares of the Ultima Weapon and nightmares of Papalymo. She doesn't know where her memories end and Garuda's begin ( _—they are the same now and maybe that is the worst part of it. She isn't just tempered right now, no no no. it's so much worse. Yda is something new and something terrible_ ).

It's like walls are closing in on her and she has no room to breathe, let alone move. They are memories as much as they are dreams. Sometimes Yda can see herself crying, clinging to Papalymo's body. Yda is used to blood on her hands but when she looks down and sees Papalymo's blood, her world spins. She hates herself — hates the Garleans even more. It is there fault. They killed the Warrior of Light and they forced Papalymo's hand.

Yda doesn't like to sleep anymore. It is just too dark, too cold. She doesn't like the feeling of being trapped. And so Yda forgets herself because she doesn't know where she ends and Garuda begins. And maybe that's okay. That way, Yda doesn't have to think — just fight.

-

“Yda and Papalymo are still missing.”

“We will find them, Antecedent.”

Minfilia purses her lips and despite the new feeling of hope and light in her chest, she is still afraid, “For all of our sake, I hope you are right, Y'shtola.”

Hydaelyn is a complex place, a mess even, now after the imbalances after the Calamity. Minfilia is still trying to adjust to her new title as Warrior of Light and while the connection Y'shtola and Thancred shared with Ifrit and Titan respectfully kept the Primals from draining the land, the Twelveswood is very much so without any protectors. The Elementals, though weak after the Calamity, are furious about the Garleans having trespassed and they felt Yda and Papalymo were the only people who even tried to do anything about it. Ramuh and Garuda are strangely quiet but their beast tribes are outraged to say the least. Their primals are summoned but silent. They take their anger out on everything.

The Scions are sworn to protect, but to do that they must find the Primals. They must find Yda and Papalymo.

It doesn't take long for them to pick up on the rumors that seem to fit the description of someone Tempered by Garuda. Adventures call her the Harpy and there seems to be a reward out for her. Y'shtola keeps a close eye on the rumors but they don't make any moves to pursue them. They don't know for sure what it could be but they feel their guts twist because, really, what else could it be.

It isn't until an adventurer slams open the door to the Waking Sands that they realize just how bad it is.

The adventurer is cut up and bloody, Tataru tries to get him to calm down but he speaks so fast. Minfila ``comes running and Y'shtola tires to tend to his injuries.

“S-s-s-she's no n-normal person!” He is shaking and eyes are wide. Thancred knows the look well and has to look away. He has seen his own death — he has seen too much.

“Who?” Minfilia asks softly.

“T-t-the harpy wench!”

The Scions exchange looks and Minfilia has to close her eyes, “What...what did she look like?”

He looks up in fear, like they had just asked him to kill his loved ones, “S-s-she...had this mask! H-her arm was all ripped up! A-a-and...” his eyes land on Y'shtola and he points a shaky finger at her neck, “T-that mark! She was an Archon, I reckon! That's why I came here!”

That is all they needed to know.

They can't get much more out of him but by comparing his report to a few others of the same nature, they are able to figure out that the so-called Harpy is making a course towards Ala Mhigo, leaving bodies in her path. Minfilia, Thancred and Y'shtola set out then. They can only guess why Yda is heading towards the still Garlean controlled city-state. It can be nothing good.

Yda has always wanted to save Ala Mhigo; Yda has always wanted to be a hero. She never realized she already was.

The three of them move as fast as they can to intercept her. They want to save her, from herself, from Garuda. They need Yda and Yda needs them. They encounter very few on the roads and the ones who they do just give warnings about a brutally violent woman. It only makes them travel faster. It is very close to Ala Mhigo when they start to see bodies. They don't see any sign of life until just outside of the gates. The Garleans have shut the gates and a woman is standing in front of them, dragging a body behind her.

“Yda!” Y'shtola screams.

She turns, her mask obscuring any emotion that may have been shone on her face. She has lost her tunic, only her undershirt on. Her shorts are dirty and her boots dented. The scars on her arm are the first thing any of them notice, but soon it is obvious that she is not who she used to be. There are feathers poking out from her elbows and near the sides of her face.

Her fists clench and Y'shtola barely has time to react as Yda is suddenly running at them. Y'shtola throws her arms up and the ground quivers as a rock wall appears in front of them. Yda hits it the wall with her fists and they can feel a rush of air around them. The wall shudders. Yda yells but they can't make out any words.

Thancred glances at Y'shtola from the corner of his eyes and then hoists himself over the wall. He lands with a grunt in next to Yda and she looks up at him like a savage beast. She charges and Thancred pulls out his daggers. Wind meets fire. His daggers are molten hot and her fists result in gusts that cut at his flesh. She meets his stab with her fists but the force of the wind swirling around her pushes him back. Yda laughs and it isn't hers.

A rock smacks her face. Her mask cracks and she spins to face Y'shtola. Yda's eyes are completely green, no hint of pupils or whites under the color. Minfilia gasps and Y'shtola grits her teeth. Seeing that her eyes are no longer human will, at least, make the fight easier. Thancred's dagger cuts into the side of her hip, not too deep and she swings an uppercut at him. He barely dodges backwards with a flip.

“It's us, Yda!” Thancred snaps but his eyes are fiery red and none of them are the same anymore. He goes to kick her legs out from under her but she responds with a quick knee jerk. It smacks him in the jaw and he stumbles back. Rocks just out from the ground and grab Yda's ankle. Y'shtola meets her eyes steadily. A look of realization seems to dawn on Yda's face.

“Y'sh...tola?” she seems to be struggling for words and her normal voice bleeds in slightly. Y'shtola hesitates. “You...you left us alone. You left us...to find our own way!”

“Where's Papalymo?” Y'shtola asks slowly. And that is all it takes for Yda to break. She launches herself towards Y'shtola, the wind around her breaking her free nearly instantly. Y'shtola tries to throw up another rock wall to shield herself but Yda breaks it down with one punch. She grabs Y'shtola's collar and hoists her up.

“Do not say that name,” Yda snarls, drawing back her fist. Y'shtola does not struggle, just meets Yda's eyes. Suddenly, Yda is grabbed around the waist and thrown to the ground. Minfilia stands above her, her sword to Yda's throat.

“Stand down, Yda. We can save you,” Minfilia's jaw is clenched. Yda's shoulders shudder but she makes no move to stand. She stares downward. Then, so fast they can barely see it, she does a cartwheel backwards, her feet coming up to kick Minfilia's sword from her hands. Another one of Garuda's laughs push past her lips and the wind has grown violent. Thancred starts to run at her but a spear flies past his head, narrowly missing him. There are Ixal surrounding them and no one can pinpoint when they arrived. Thancred, Y'shtola and Minfilia gather close to each other and Yda flashes a smirk before she turns to leave.

“She belongs to me now,” the voice comes from Yda but it is not hers. They let her go because perhaps there is nothing left of Yda to save anymore.

-

There are nights when, in her dream, Yda can hear Papalymo's voice. It is more than just memories then. Garuda can't erase her memories when she sleeps so she changes them. She reaches out to him desperately; she doesn't want to feel alone anymore. Some nights, Papalymo blames her, his voice cracking and changing but in the end, isn't he right? She knows it Garuda but it still hurts.

This night, however, she doesn't reach out; just looks down at the scars on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Papalymo. I've failed you.”

He turns to her and his eyes widen. Papalymo reaches out to her instead, “Yda?”

His voice is his and his eyes are his. Yda runs to him, picks him up and hold him close. He is cold — there is no beating in his chest. He pushes against her to lean back and examine her arm. His fingers trace the scars, all the way from her palm up to her shoulder and across her collarbone.

“I did that...”

“I'm sorry, Papalymo,” Yda whispers again and he looks up at her.

He tries to reply but there is a crash of thunder. Yda is gone and that's when Papalymo wakes up.

 


	2. Chapter 2

> Voices disappear  
>  When you're speaking in somber tunes  
>  I will be the wolf  
>  And when you're starving you'll need it too  
>  Hungry for the kill  
>  But this hunger it isn't you
> 
> -Hunger by Of Monsters and Men

 

When Papalymo wakes up, he can feel nothing but pain. His chest is tight and burns. He can't see anything at first, his vision too blurred by the pain. Then he hears the voices. Hundreds of voices of voices all rising up in a chorus of noise. Chattering sylphs and voices of those who had passed. The sounds of the Lifestream and the Beyond. Somewhere among all the voices he is able to pick out Ramuh's and at first he cannot understand the words through all the sounds. Soon, though, he feels himself being picked up — plucked from death and then Ramuh's voice is closer, clearer.

“Child, you have made me proud and for that, I give unto thee my power but it is not without cost.”

The voices stop, abruptly and Papalymo is left in darkness and silence. The pain eases slightly so that he can breath more easily but the aching in chest never really leaves. The dark spots in his vision clear and he finds himself laying in the soft grass of the Sylphlands. A feeling settles in the back of his mind: he is home.

-

And Ramuh had felt something akin to guilt when Papalymo died. He had sent Sylphs to recover the lalafell's body and he cradled it like a child. Papalymo was far stronger than he had thought and Papalymo had earned a second chance. Ramuh gave him his own aether — gave up his physical form in order to bring life back into Papalymo. It was something new. Ramuh fell silent to all his children then, all but Papalymo.

-

Papalymo struggles to remember who he is. He is a protector. A protector for the Sylphs? It doesn't sound quite right. Sometimes when goes to bathe, he takes off his robes and he sees the scar in his gut. It is jagged and raised. He thinks he should remember who gave it to him — he wants to remember who gave it to him. He thinks it was a mercy and an act of love. But he guesses, now, whoever he was then is gone and the act simply was not enough. It hurts when he thinks about it and so he tries not to.

The water he bathes in is blue and he feels like the color means something. The water twinkles under the stars and he reached up to touch the mark on his neck. Clearest blue. Like aether. Like a pair of eyes. Papalymo dries off and redresses quickly before getting back to work. He helps the Sylphs rebuild and gather supplies. Tonight he is helping patrol the outer edges of Larkscall. Two purple Sylphs come with him. They go to an area he has not been to in a long time and there is metal scraps strew across the landscape. Nature is trying to reclaim the steel as vines and moss grab and cover the debris.

It makes his chest hurt and goes up for a closer look. He runs his finger across a piece. It is sharp and cold and he feels he should remember it. When the metal cuts his finger, he still bleeds and his heart still beats so he knows that, now, he is alive.

“Metal ones tried to take This One's home,” one Sylph tells him.

“You and other Walking One saved us!” The other says and then snickers, “She wasn't very nice!”

The first Sylph hits the other, “We aren't supposed to talk about other Walking One!”

Papalymo looks up, “She?” the word has just barely left his lips before he his head explodes. He nearly stumbles backwards and a hiss escapes his lips. He can feel a hand in his, a warmth on his forehead and he can almost hear a voice. He can't see a face — he can't remember a name. The Sylphs exchange looks and Papalymo realizes that he feels so alone because _he wasn't always this way_. This is wrong, he thinks, but says nothing. He stands and they continue.

Ramuh tries to calm his racing mind but Papalymo is stiff and confused as they finish. He feels so empty. There is a part of him missing. He wants it back but he doesn't know what it is. When he sleeps that night, Papalymo dreams of another voice. He can see a female figure huddled on the ground of an endless dark abyss. She is shaking, disheveled and dirty. Papalymo knows her but he can't remember why. She eases something in him but she feels wrong and right all at once like a memory twisted.

“Hello?” He asks. He wants to know, he needs to know.

“I'm cold, Papalymo.”

He can no longer hear Ramuh, just this woman in front of him. Her voice echos. It is familiar and it is home. He reaches out to her but a gust of wind blows her fragile body away as if it was dust. He falls to his knees, a name just at the tip of his tongue but he can't remember how to move his lips. He is left clutching at the darkness alone and he, too, is cold.

-

The Scions of the Seventh Dawn have one more option. It is one they all agree upon just as the early morning sun stretches out on the sands of Thanalan. Thancred is already packing supplies while Minfilia and Y'shtola examine a map.

In order to reach Yda they would have to find Papalymo — or at least find out what happened to him. Knowing that Ramuh was the only other primal to be silent but still summoned and Y'shtola recalling the storm in Papalymo's eyes; they set off to the Sylphlands. They were still devastated by the failure they had with Yda but they prayed — to their Primal and to the Twelve because they still held onto their beliefs somehow, somehow. Papalymo was always the easier to reason with and they hoped that this trait would stay with him even through...even through whatever had prevented him from returning to them.

Y'shtola wants answers. Thancred wants peace. Minfilia wants her family back.

After their bags are packed and the map is marked, they sit down to eat breakfast. They don't exchange words but Minfilia smiles at each of them. She is their light and it is because of her that they continue on without hesitation. Breakfast is simple stew and bread. Thancred surprised them by adding a side of meat for them to enjoy. Y'shtola hopes that when they next share a meal, the two seat next to them will no longer be empty. She stares at the empty chairs for too long and Minfilia places a hand on her arm. They would fix this.

Each of them get settled onto their chocobos and the journey will not be too long but they pack everything they might need nonetheless. The people of the Twelveswood are starting to rebuild. The settlements are starting refill and people wave at them as they pass. There is a feeling of rebirth here—that everything will be okay again. They will be strong enough to protect all these people and even the realm, together. But in order to be complete, they have to step into Larkscall.

It has started to rain as they approach the Sylphlands. Their chocobos coo and fluff their feathers. They won't go any farther. Minfilia hops of her bird first and gives him a pet. She leaves some fruit for their chocobos to pick at and then the three of them disappear into the woods. Thancred has his hands on his daggers and Y'shtola leads the way. She can see the aether patterns now, even without her goggles, and she is looking for the highest density of energy. Minfilia follows at the rear, her heart beating fast. The answers they find here can make or break everything they worked so hard for. This could be the end, she thinks.

Y'shtola leads them deeper into the tangled web of trees and other plant life. It is quiet, almost strangely so. They see some treants and other wildlife but most keep their distance. The only sound is the sound of the rain. Y'shtola leads them on with a purpose and soon, they see an Aetheryte looming in the distance. It gives off a soft glow in the fog and the rain runs down it. It's beautiful.

Standing in front of it is a small figure with their back to them. Papalymo hasn't changed much and when he turns to face them, his eyes are still a storm.

“You shouldn't be here,” he whispers.

“Papalymo,” Y'shtola smiles, “You are unharmed.”

He narrows his eyes and the air crackles, “How do you know my name?”

“You...do not recognize us?” She bites her lip slightly and her face falls because maybe this was all for naught. Maybe there was no helping Yda _or_ Papalymo.

It is Minfilia that takes the first step closer to him, “We need your help...and we need you to remember what happened,” she says, reaching out towards him.

Papalymo slinks back, his fingers on his staff, “My place is here.”

“Yda needs you.”

Papalymo opens his mouth and he doesn't understand what she means but Minfilia grabs his shoulder roughly. She uses the Echo to show him the Calamity. She forces the images into his mind, pulling and tugging at his hidden memories. It is invasive and it hurts both of their heads. She sees it too and she twists her eyes shut. Oh, how they wish to forget. But they cannot. To forget is to damn them to repeating it. The sky bleeding red — the moon breaking open. The fire and the yelling. It's her praying so so so hard and it's the feeling of the end. But they survived and they continued, together. Just like they must do now.

Papalymo releases a staggered gasp and his legs give out. She holds him up in her arms but lets go of his shoulder. The Echo vision ends but it triggers an onslaught of memories. He cries out.

He sees Yda. He remembers Yda. The sting of the Sage Mark when he first got it, his first brawl with Yda and she had left him with a nasty bruise. The smell of Gridania when they first crash landed. He remembers being so mad at Yda but he also remember what she said ' _You dolt! You and I might still be able to stop it! We can find a way, like we always do. We can do anything!'_ and it was one of most inspiring quotes she had ever uttered. And then he remembers losing the Warrior of Light and Louisoix all in one night.

The pain knocks the wind out of him and he has to close his eyes against the memories but they do not let up. Papalymo remembers the feeling of hopelessness then, when the Garlean Empire attacked and he hears Yda's voice again _'What have you done, Papalymo?'_ He had done the only thing he thought could help. He had asked for help and that is where the end begun. The first time he saw Ramuh he couldn't breathe—

His body lurches forward because it is too much, just too much. He misses her and he needs her. He is nothing without her and how is she doing now without him? He doesn't want to know, he can't deal with knowing.

Then it's the feeling of her scars under his fingertips. The torn look on her face. She had called him a monster and he felt she was right, especially now. His gut feels warm like blood. He cannot breathe. He remembers begging while she fell apart _'Allow me my freedom, Yda.'_ because they had won, won, won. It had been over. For the War, for him and for them. Maybe it had been a selfish request but she had give it to him. He had left her all alone.

Papalymo feels Minfilia's arms around him, holding him steady and all he can gasp out is, “I _died._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i was gonna make this the last chapter and give y'all a happy end but you're gonna have to wait more now because i got too excited


End file.
